


Encounters in the Night

by brandytook



Category: Magic School Bus, Mary Poppins - All Media Types, The Tempest - Shakespeare
Genre: Gen, Misses Clause Challenge, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 14:12:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandytook/pseuds/brandytook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A late-night, mid-air collision leads to a bit of an adventure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Encounters in the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rhea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhea/gifts).



The collision happened late at night. Mary had only just befriended her umbrella and they were seeing what exactly they could get up to together. The acquaintance of Mary and her umbrella is quite a fascinating story in and of itself, involving a daring escape from the National Gallery, a close call with a street vendor, and the well timed appearance of a squirrel, but it's not the story set down here. For the collision was the beginning of another story entirely, just as fascinating as the one involving the squirrel, if not more so.

The collision happened late at night. Val and the bus were taking a bit of a hop through time over London. They'd started back before Christianity ever made it to the island and were jumping forward through the mist. They were moving forward only via foggy nights, jumping from one to the next at a breakneck pace, watching the infrastructure of London take shape below them. Despite the speed with which they were traveling stopping at each and every foggy night that had occurred through the centuries took a great deal of time. And by the time they made it to the late 19th century both the bus and Val were a little distracted, a little groggy and there was no reason either of them should really have been prepared to encounter a woman hanging from an umbrella in their path. Except of course that Val prided herself on always being prepared to encounter anything at all.

The bus really only tapped Mary, but it was enough to send her spinning through the clouds. Val ran to the door and flung it open. “Oh, I'm so sorry!” she yelled through the mist. She held to the door with one hand and leaned as far out as she could, stretching the other hand into the night. The bus adjusted course to bring them closer to the woman turning like a top across the skies of London.

Val managed to grab Mary's skirt and tugged her into the bus. Mary collapsed on top of her as the two fell backwards onto the stairs leading into the bus. Mary's forehead hit the edge of the top step and she let out a muffled yelp of pain. Her umbrella squawked and folded itself closed quickly, as if it were straightening out so many ruffled feathers.

“Are you alright?” Val asked, from somewhere around the vicinity of Mary's stomach. “I really am so sorry. We never expected to run into other air traffic during this era. You're very unusual.” There was a trill of glee in Val's voice.

Mary sat up quickly, pulled herself to her feet and smoothed her skirt. “I am no such thing. You are clearly the unusual one between the two of us. What are you wearing? For that matter, what is this thing?” She gestured at the bus with a very precise movement of her left hand. One imagines that even as a child, if Mary ever was such a thing, she was extremely conscious of decorum and manners.

Val, still lying on the steps, looked down at herself—she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with Big Ben on it—and back up at Mary. “I'm wearing the first thing I laid hands on when I got up this morning. I believe we may have started off the wrong way.” Val hoisted herself to her feet and extended a hand to be shaken. “In fact, I know we have. Hello, I'm Valerie Frizzle, it's a pleasure to meet you.”

Mary took the proffered hand and shook it firmly but lightly. “Mary Poppins. Glad to make your acquaintance.”

“Oh! You're bleeding! Let me take care of that. Here, have a seat.” Val led Mary to the front row of seats and then scurried to the back of the bus to grab the first aid kit she kept stashed there.

Mary was dabbing at the cut on her forehead with a handkerchief when Val made it back to the front of the bus.

“What are you doing here?” Mary asked.

“The bus and I just thought we'd take a little tour through time. I do really love watching cities grow.” She wiped at the cut on Mary's head with some disinfectant.

“You can't travel through time.”

“Says the woman flying through the air with an umbrella.”

“Clearly we both have ways of flying even though the general populace might find them ridiculous,” here Mary squinted at the interior of the bus again, as if to suggest she perhaps found Val's method of transportation a little ridiculous too, “but traveling in time is absolutely preposterous.”

Val taped a bandage to Mary's forehead and leaned back to inspect her work. She nodded once, briskly, and then leaned forward again. “It's possible. Want me to prove it to you?” Val almost whispered, grinning.

Mary crossed her arms across her chest, and met Val's gaze unwaveringly. “Yes.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“The past.”

Val decided this delightfully strange woman probably wasn't going to get any more specific than that and went to the front of the bus to change course.

The bus made only the slightest groaning noise as it reversed course and started retracing its path through time. Val walked back to where Mary was sitting. She'd let the bus decide where they stopped. It always made good decisions.

“How's your head doing?” Val asked, sitting on the bench across the aisle from where Mary was cradling her forehead in one of her hands, gripping her umbrella with the other.

“Better,” Mary said, somewhat begrudgingly.

“Can I offer you something to drink? I'm sure the bus could whip up some tea if you'd like. Or coffee if you're feeling a little alternative.”

Mary squinted at her. “Some tea would be quite nice. One sugar cube, no cream, if you please. Who are you?”

“Valerie Frizzle, like I said, but you can call me Val.”

“That's not what I meant,” said Mary.

“Well, who are you, Mary Poppins?”

Mary glared at Val's back as she fussed with something in the rear of the bus.

“See, that's what I mean,” Val said, turning around with a porcelain saucer with a tea cup perched atop it in hand. “It's sort of complicated, isn't it?”

The bus gave a slight shudder and Val stumbled a little, managing to keep the tea cup upright. “It looks like we've arrived.”

“Arrived where?”

“Oh, I don't know. I let the bus decide. Shall we find out?” And she flung open the bus doors.

Mary arose carefully from the bench, rather expecting the world to spin around her when she regained her feet. She wasn't as unstable as she'd feared though, and after briefly pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead she followed Val out of the bus.

The first thing she noticed was the smell. It was absolutely horrid. It stung her nose and her eyes watered. It was the sewage smell of the Thames on its worst day, mixed with half of the dirty nappies she would ever change in her life, with just a hint of rotting meat.

“Wow,” Val said, just in front of her. “That's quite pungent. Oh, but look, it's the Globe!”

“What?” Mary said, drawing up beside Val, but then she saw it too. The Globe Theater. No wonder everything smelled so tenaciously. It was three hundred years ago.

“This is ridiculous,” Mary said.

“Oh, will you give that conversational thread up already?” Val responded, running forward towards the theater. “It's getting old.”

It was still the middle of the night, even though it was three hundred years ago. The theater wasn't secured in any way and there was no one inside when Val went charging in. Mary followed at a more measured pace behind her. Val skipped about the pit, shouting to Mary, “Look at me! I'm a groundling!” As if they were best friends instead of recent acquaintances.

Mary was impressed. She had to admit it. And this wouldn't stand. She couldn't let herself be shown up. “Alright, so your flying monstrosity travels in time. I admit it. Now, would you like to see something truly impressive?”

“Of course!” Val said, turning to face Mary.

There was a minimal set on the stage, a roughly painted back drop of a beach and a few awkward shapes strewn across the boards that were probably meant to suggest rocks. With a slight hop and the help of her umbrella Mary got onto the stage. Val clambered up after her. 

“Here, take my hand.” Mary held out the hand not holding her umbrella and Val took it with only the slightest hesitation. “Now walk with me. Don't slow up, we must be traveling at an assured pace for this to work.”

“For what to work?”

“No questions now.”

Mary walked in even, deliberate steps toward the back of the stage, where the painted canvas was hanging. Val trailed behind her slightly at first, and then squared her shoulders and matched each one of her steps exactly.

“Where are we going?”

“I said, no questions.”

Just as Val was about to let go of Mary's hand and stop moving—two steps from the roughly depicted beach—there was a slight wavering of the air in front of her and when she looked around after her next step she was standing on an actual beach, or at least, it gave the impression of an actual beach. The sand might have gotten a bit blurry in spots and the sky might not have met the horizon in a few places, but mostly, it was a beach.

“Where are we?”

Mary sniffed the air delicately. “I believe we are on Prospero's isle.”

“What? Prospero like the fictional magician?”

“Yes. Why? Do you find that any more unbelievable than traveling through time?”

Val didn't respond right away. Of course this was more unbelievable than the simple matter of slipping the wrong way through the time stream, but she didn't want to admit that. This Mary Poppins was quite sure enough of herself already. She didn't need to see how flummoxed Val was.

“Is anyone around?” Val asked, still somewhat dubious. “Are we going to meet Ariel?”

As if on cue one of the forms that Mary and Val had taken to be a boulder shook itself and moved toward them a foot or two.

“Hello. How do you do?” Mary called.

The shambling form stopped where it was. It stretched itself out with a groaning noise and swiveled what appeared to be a head. That's when Val and Mary saw its eyes, which it blinked twice, deliberately. “Who are you?” it grumbled, its voice like the beginning of an avalanche.

“Why isn't it speaking in verse?” Val asked Mary out of the corner of her mouth.

“I don't know,” Mary whispered back. In response to the creature she said, “I am Mary Poppins and this is Valerie Frizzle. We're visitors to this isle.”

“This isle's never had much luck with visitors,” the creature responded. “What do you want?”

“Just a look around.”

“That's what they always say, isn't it?”

“I don't know? Is it?” Val asked.

The creature started shuffling toward them again and Val and Mary moved closer together, so that their shoulders were brushing. Val realized she hadn't let go of Mary's hand once they arrived on the beach, and squeezed it a little now, for reassurance.

“It would be better if you went back where you came from. This isle is too crowded as it is. No room to move or breathe like there used to be. Always somebody watching, getting in the way.”

“Are you Caliban?” Val asked.

“What sort of witches are you that you can know me when I know nothing of you?”

“Not witches, exactly,” Mary said.

Caliban had stopped shambling slowly toward them when Val named him, but he resumed his approach at a faster pace again now.

“You know,” Val said, “I think maybe we should leave.”

Mary nodded her agreement. “Take three quick steps back with me,” she said, “and then jump.” So Val did, and when she landed after her jump she landed on wooden boards and not sand. The painted canvas hung in front of her face again, although it appeared that one of the abstract shapes that tried to represent a boulder was in a slightly different spot than it had been before they left the stage.

“You know,” Val said, “I always felt bad for Caliban. I never imagined he'd be so intimidating.”

“Something can be pitiable and frightening at the same time,” Mary said.

“I suppose.” Val climbed down off the stage and held out a hand to help Mary down. Mary looked at the proffered hand, but then flicked her umbrella open and floated down next to Val elegantly.

“You're always like this, aren't you?” Val said and she couldn't stop herself from grinning.

“Most of the time. Yes. So, where else does this bus of yours go?”


End file.
